The War We Fight
by annabel andrews
Summary: Every family has its secrets. The Weasley family is no exception. But just how far do the cracks run in this seemingly normal family? And why is Ginny the only one who suffers the consequences?
1. Prolouge

**_ Prologue_****_  
  
_**_ It ain't easy growin up in World War III   
Never knowin what love could be, you'll see   
I don't want love to destroy me like it has done  
my family   
  
  
_Ginny listened to the screams of anger and sadness that reverberated through the house. So they had started up again.   
  
She burrowed down into the bed, pulling the covers over her head, trying in some way to block out the sounds of shattering glass, all the while wishing she lived in a normal family. A family that loved one another, who never shouted or raged. But, alas, Ginny had little hope that wish would ever come true.  
  
Then it happened. Ginny heard her name mentioned in the screaming match of wits. There it was again, and a third time. She strained to listen, half hoping she would hear her name again, and half dreading it.  
_  
  
She's got every right to know, Arthur!  
  
And what then?! Do you know what he'll do if he finds out about her?!  
  
But what if she finds out without us telling her?! She's not stupid, Arthur, she'll figure it out for herself if we don't stop her!  
  
But at that'll buy us more time! You don't understand, Molly, you never do! He'll kill her without a second thought! He's already tried to twice! I won't have you putting her in danger just to free your conscience!  
  
  
_Ginny froze. What were they saying? Were they talking about her? Was her life in danger? _Hers?_ No, it couldn't be........ No one wanted anything to do with her, Ginny, much less this mysterious . So why then the desperation in her father's voice?  
  
Thoughts swirled in her mind. But with her parents deadlocked in another daily battle, the was only one person she could turn to.  
  
She crept down the hall way silently lest she disturb her irate parents.  
  
she asked as she opened the door. A muffled grunt from somewhere beneath the piles of bedding signified Ron's presence in the room.  
  
Ginny sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid any lumps in the covers that had the possibility of being her older brother.  
  
She heard another grunt as the creature under the covers moved. Slowly the somewhat gangly figure of a teenage boy appeared from the depths of the bed.  
  
Ron, are you awake? Ginny asked tentatively. Judging from the direction of a pillow thrown at her, Ginny guessed that yes, Ron was awake.  
  
Ginny, what do you want? Ron groaned. Clearly he didn't realize that the ever lasting war between husband and wife was currently being fought, or he would have sounded more sympathetic  
  
They're fighting again, Ginny informed him tearfully. Ron sat bolt upright. he asked incredulously. That's the fifth row this week. He caught sight of Ginny's pale, worried face, and his voice softened.   
  
Ron, I'm scared, Ginny confessed, though she needn't have said a word; Ron could tell straight away that something was the matter.  
  
He looked at her tenderly, and motioned for her to come sit by him. When she had done so, he put him arm around her. She leaned against his shoulder, trying to fight back the tears that kept threatening to over come her.  
  
Aren't you getting a little old for this? Ron joked weakly. But Ginny could tell he needed it just as much as she did.  
  
Neither one of them said anything after that; but, then again, they didn't have to when each knew what the other was thinking, feeling.   
  
Ron and Ginny had always been close; closer, in fact, than their five other brothers, even if Ron denied it, and he did deny it, at least at school. But he was always a pain at school anyway. That didn't reflect on their relationship at home. If anything, the war had brought them closer.  
  
It's not your fault, Gin, he reassured her, these things happen. Ginny trailed off, fingering at a loose thread in Ron's Chudley Cannon bedspread.   
  
Ron, they were arguing about me. she said softly. She decided not to say about what. Ron stiffened.  
  
Ginny looked up into Ron's face. He seemed to be wrestling with an intense problem. There was a look of agitation on his face, and he was sweating.  
  
Ron, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? she asked curiously. Ron shook his head half heartedly, and said, almost in a whisper,   
  
Ginny sat straight up. she raised her voice to get her brother's attention, Ron, look at me and tell me you don't know why they were fighting over me. She put her hands on his shoulders so he was forced to look straight into her eyes.  
  
No. I don't know Ginny. I don't know a thing.   
  
Ginny almost believed him. Almost.


	2. Chapter One

**_ Chapter One  
_****__**  
_Momma please stop cryin, I can't stand the sound   
Your pain is painful and its tearin' me down   
I hear glasses breakin as I sit up in my bed   
I told dad you didn't mean those nasty things you  
said   
  
_Ginny sat on the edge of her bed, a pair of socks in her hand, trying to convince herself that she wanted to go home. Trying to tell herself that this would be just like any other normal Christmas, that she was going home to a kind, loving family, a family that would welcome her home with open arms.  
  
Ginny figured as long as she was dreaming she'd like a million galleons as well.  
  
There was a knock at the door.   
  
a voice tentatively called.  
  
Ginny, startled, jumped several inches in the air before realizing it was only her brother, Ron.  
  
Ron smirked as he opened the door. Don't worry, I'm not about to steal your precious socks, he teased.  
  
Ginny threw the socks at him, hitting his nose with deadly accuracy.  
  
Well, aren't we grumpy today, Ron quipped.  
  
Ron, if you've merely come here to ridicule me, now isn't the best time, Ginny sighed resignedly.  
  
Much as it appeals to me, no, I didn't come here to merely make a mockery of your life, Ron faked disappointment. Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
I actually have a proposition to make to you, he began, this time with nothing but earnestness in his voice. He sat down on Ginny's bed beside her.  
  
Ginny had no earthly idea what would make Ron actually have a decent conversation with her at school.  
  
You know we're going home for Christmas, everyone will be there, and, well, you know how it gets sometimes....... he trailed off, avoiding meeting her eyes.  
  
Well, anyway, I had an idea, see.... but Ginny cut him short. You? _You_ had an _idea_?  
  
Ron glared at her. I'm not that thick, he replied shortly. Ginny giggled, but stopped when Ron threatened to curse her.  
  
So, like I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, was, that, well... Ron paused as he thought things through. I'm trying hard as I can! he snapped when Ginny looked as though she was about to start giggling again.  
  
Okay, here, I got it, he said resolutely. Anyway, you know how mum and dad _never_ fight when we have guests? Ginny nodded, and Ron continued, saying Well, what I figure is this: If we have a guest with us all through Christmas holiday, they'll never once say anything even slightly less than perfect to one another. Am I correct?  
  
Ginny thought for a moment. I guess so, she answered slowly, then added, and just _who_ will this guest be?  
  
She had her suspicions, but nothing was definite until a God, Ginny, isn't it obvious? from Ron.  
  
Ginny's worst fears were confirmed.  
  
Oh, no, we are _not_ having Harry _or_ Hermione over for Christmas. Uh uh. No way. It's as plain and simple as that.  
  
C'mon, Ginny, Ron wheedled, adding,   
  
No. You know how things get at Christmas.  
  
What, you don't want them to see your annual eggnog stupor?  
Ginny warned. Ron grinned. Ginny frowned.  
  
Ron adopted a hurt expression. Ginny snorted in derision.  
  
The more you plead the more I'm going to reject it. I'm not saying yes and that's final.  
  
***************************  
  
Ginny stared out of the window glumly, her friends chattering beside her in the compartment, watching the bleak winter countryside pass by. Ginny heard Ron and Harry talking loudly one compartment down, laughing at a joke unknown to her. She didn't hear Hermione as much as the others; most likely because Hermione had her head buried in a book.  
  
Ginny didn't know how Ron had managed to convince her to let Harry accompany them to the annual Weasley Christmas festivities. But, then again, Ginny didn't know why she had rejected Ron's proposal in the first place. She liked Harry well enough; he was a fun person to be with, and he actually listened to her opinions and regarded them with sincerity, unlike most people.  
  
Ginny had always been the quiet sort. That didn't mean she hadn't a lot of friends, oh, quite the opposite, in fact, but instead it meant that she was thinker. A dreamer. It seemed she was always dreaming up some impossible fantasy. Her friends joked about her wild imagination. She was the innocent one, the kind, compassionate one among them. It seemed as if nothing dark was in her, that she was as pure and selfless as a saint. (well, not quite, but even saints have the occasional urge to plan a dung bomb attack with their brothers.)  
  
It seemed as if her life was perfect.  
  
_Oh, _ Ginny thought to herself, _if only they knew the truth._  
  
A voice on the intercom announced they were pulling into Platform 9 and 3/4, startling Ginny from her thoughts. She straightened up out of her seat, yawned, and grabbed her trunk. Outside the window she could see the platform covered in parents and siblings waiting.  
  
It seemed such a happy scene, so peaceful, so contented. Ginny wished she could feel the same.  
  
She caught sight of her own parents, waving a smiling like they always did in public.  
  
That made Ginny angry. How dare they act as if nothing was wrong. How dare they lie to the world, putting on a party face for the sake of social grace. How dare they do this to her!  
  
Ginny watched with fury as relatives embraced one another. She could hear ecstatic greetings and tearful goodbyes. She could see the children, most likely siblings of Hogwarts students, running around on the platform, racing one another and playing their silly games, all the while anger building up inside of her, an anger so intense it frightened her.  
  
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Why should she have to suffer like this? She had never wronged a person. She had always been gentle and sympathetic. Why then did she feel pain?  
  
By now the rage was pounding in her ears. Red swam in her vision. Ginny felt herself being pulled down into a vortex of hate and wrath, down, down, down into blackness.  
  
A deafening explosion rocked the train.


End file.
